No need for words

He rubbed his hands through my wet hair and looked down at me. He looked deep within my eyes. Neither of us spoke. There was no need for words.

He lowered his head down to mine and his quivering lips met mine. He kissed me, tenderly and passionately.

His hands began to explore my body with his fingers gently kneading my skin. His mouth followed his fingers like ants following a trail of crumbs.

He continued to caress me, tenderly kissing every inch of my bare skin. He gently kissed my neck, he knows how much I adore that, whilst running his hands through my hair and his fingers down my body.

It felt so right. For the first time in a long time, it felt right. It felt comfortable and not strained. It felt like the first time, filled with lust and excitement, full of passion and a burning desire.

He was there. He was there in body and soul.

And we made love.

He made sweet passionate love to me. He did everything right, like always, and before too long he brought me to the steamy heights of ecstasy.

Afterwards, as we lay holding each other tightly, with legs intertwined, I cried.

I cried like a hungry baby. Tears ran down my cheeks and he gently kissed them away and held me tight. I cried because I never thought he would do that to me again.

In my heart and mind I set my marriage free and never expected in a million years that he would ever make love to me again.

And as I lay there, in a post orgasmic state with a tear streaked face, I drifted off to unconsciousness while he held me tight.